


fire burns (like the one you light within me)

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Rainy Days, Sheithlentines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9713942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: Before he started sharing a bed with Shiro, Keith wasn’t fond of mornings. He had been apathetic about mornings in general, getting up with ease and starting with his morning routine with little to no trouble. But there’s no denying the fact he’s gotten fonder of mornings after he and Shiro have started sleeping together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy valentines day Snow! I hope you like your sheithlentines gift <3

Before he started sharing a bed with Shiro, Keith wasn’t fond of mornings. He had been apathetic about mornings in general, getting up with ease and starting with his morning routine with little to no trouble. But there’s no denying the fact he’s gotten fonder of mornings after he and Shiro have started sleeping together.

 

The thing he likes is how they come back to each other as soon as either of them is awake. They tend to drift apart during the night you see. Backs turned to each other or curled up peacefully on opposite ends of the bed. But as soon as either of them is awake and aware of their surroundings, aware of the distance between them, they cross it. Keith will find himself waking up to the feel of Shiro’s body slipping into his arms, his nose pressing against Keith’s collarbone. Or he will wake up shift closer to Shiro, closing his eyes happily when Shiro’s hand will sleepily draw him in.

 

This cold, rainy, perfect morning, Keith has slowly floated to wakefulness with Shiro’s warm body against his back, their hands linked against Keith’s lips. Breathing synced, Keith keeps his eyes closed and thinks about burrowing a little deeper under the blankets so that his nose can hide from the cold. The theme of this week-long vacation  _ is  _ maximum comfort after all. 

 

Shiro’s grip on his hand is soft. His thumb rubs against the base of Keith’s thumb, over and over again. A thoughtless, loving gesture that drip-drops honey-golden drops of love into the already overflowing cup inside Keith’s heart. 

 

Eyes still closed, enjoying Shiro’s touch, his warmth, and the pleasing sound of raindrops pattering against the bedroom window, Keith exhales.

 

“D’ you know what time izzit?” he slurs sleepily into Shiro’s knuckles. 

 

Pitter-patter goes the rain, sadly sliding down the windows as the pair inside ignore their presence. There’s the faintest condensate covering the glass. Keith isn’t looking forward to getting out of bed. With just a touch of regret Keith eyes his warm fleece pajamas and tank top that he’d tossed to the floor last night because Shiro had whispered to him to help and Keith’s hands had moved before he co-

 

Behind him, Shiro shrugs. “Don’t know. Probably after nine.” 

 

His breath stirs Keith’s hair, making a few strands flutter and come to rest against the tip of Keith’s ear. It’s faintly ticklish. Keith wriggles his ear a couple of times in a poor effort to dislodge them. Behind him, Shiro chuckles before blowing a light breath over the hair. The ticklish feeling disappears. 

 

Keith hums in approval before pressing his naked body back against Shiro. They’re both  _ so  _ warm and cozy under the blankets. Sleep continues to swirl overhead, whisper-singing her gentle song, urging Keith to close his eyes and dream some more. But he ignores her call, changing the grip he’s got on Shiro’s hand so that only their palms press together, holding Shiro’s hand like he would if they dance. 

 

“Probably?”

 

The tip of Shiro’s cold nose finds its way through Keith’s hair and presses against the back of the shorter man’s neck. “Mmm. Heard Patrick leave for work a while ago. He really needs to take his car to the shop to get the belt fixed.”

 

Oh. So  _ that’s  _ what that sound had been. Keith had wondered mid-doze what the hell had made that awful sound. Their neighbor really needs to get to fixing his car. The damn thing’s been making that horrible racket every day for two weeks now. 

 

Letting go of that thought, Keith focuses instead on the time. They  _ could  _ get out and make breakfast but Keith’s just  _ so comfortable _ . Also, vacation. He can totally avoid getting out of bed until there’s no other choice. And he doesn’t really feel hungry right now so, why bother leaving bed?

 

Pleased with his decision, Keith turns around to face Shiro. The urge to savor this precious quiet time grows. He rubs their noses together in a quick Eskimo kiss that makes Shiro shake with gentle laughter and Keith grin. Running his hand up Shiro’s arm, lightly, oh so lightly, causes short hairs to raise under his palm and Shiro to shiver. 

 

Keith presses their foreheads together, closing his eyes when his hand arrived at its destination. The base of Shiro’s neck. His fingers squeeze, kneading firm muscles before relaxing. He strokes the soft edges of Shiro’s haircut, over and over again until Shiro’s all but purring under his palm. 

 

Grinning, he drops a soft kiss off Shiro’s parted lips before whisper-asking, “Wanna get up and make breakfast?”

 

“Nope,” Shiro hums easily, dragging the blanket back up until it’s covering half their faces. Gray eyes twinkle at him with mischievousness. “You wanna do it? I’ll make it worth your while.”

 

The comical eyebrow waggle that follows which has Keith snorting. “Oh?

 

“Mmhmm. I’ll love you forever.”

 

“Thought you already did. That was part of our wedding vows, remember?”

 

“Damn,” Shiro clicks his tongue with mock regret. With a wicked grin and a huskier voice, Shiro asks, “How about a blowjob then?”

 

Keith immediately snorts. He scratches his nails against the back of Shiro’s neck, smiling at the way it makes the taller man hum. “I’ll give  _ you _ a blow job  _ and _ rim you if I don’t.’

 

With a groan-laugh, Shiro buries his face against Keith’s neck. Clearly he knows the only conclusion to this will only be escalation and no results. “Sooner or later we’re gonna hafta get up and eat.” Shiro points out in a half-grumble, sounding very put out by the prospect.

 

“We could  _ both _ get up when we’re hungry.” He tries and fails at hiding his amused laugh when Shiro lets out complaining noises at the thought of getting out of their warm bed. 

 

Shiro reproachfully bites the underside of his jaw before saying, “But I don’t  _ want  _ to get out of bed. That’s the whole point of our vacation. Do you think we could call someone and have them deliver food to us in bed?”

 

“I don’t think there’s a delivery service like that, Shiro.”

 

A firm thigh nudges up against Keith’s. “Matt,” Shiro immediately points out. “Or anyone else.”

 

Keith’s face immediately scrunches into an uncertain expression. “Doubt it. As soon as they’ll know they’ve gotta come in here, they’ll refuse. We’d have to get up anyways to get the food. We may as well get up anyways and make something ourselves”

 

With a curse, Shiro settles down again. Keith’s fingers move up to comb through Shiro’s short, dark strands of hair to comfort him. The hair feels longer than usual. He wonders if Shiro is due for a haircut.

 

“We could rock-paper-scissors for it?” Keith suggests. 

 

Shiro’s huff is a soft exhale against his neck. A burst of hot air that sends a cool thrill down Keith’s spine. He sighs and pulls Shiro closer, allowing the hand dropping around his waist to pull him further against his boyfriend’s body.

 

“Let’s wait ‘till we  _ gotta _ get up,” Shiro sighs, arm curled around Keith’s hip. Keith presses his lips to the taller man’s forehead in agreement and continues lavishing Shiro with gentle touches. Keith runs his fingers through Shiro’s hair over and over again, fingertips lightly scratching the scalp every time. 

 

Outside, the rain picks up speed. It’s falling down in sheets, coloring the world a soft gray by the time Keith realizes Shiro has fallen asleep. He blinks in surprise down at Shiro’s dark head and asks, “Takashi?” 

 

Shiro doesn’t reply, breathing deep and steady. 

 

Keith gentles his touch immediately. An idea pops to life in his brain. He’s quick to press a kiss to Shiro’s hair and murmurs, “Be right back.” before sliding out of the bed before he can change his mind. 

 

The floor is  _ cold _ under his feet but it doesn’t hold a candle up to the chilly air of the room that presses against his naked body. Keith shivers as goosebumps rise up his arms due to the sudden exposure. After making sure that Shiro is still tucked in, Keith hurriedly slips his feet into his slippers before grabbing whatever discarded clothing is nearest to him. They turn out to be his pajamas and Shiro’s long-sleeved shirt.

 

He quietly shuffles out of the room, pausing at the door to glance over at Shiro’s sleeping form before hurrying to the kitchen. On the journey there, Keith is torn between keeping it as simple as possible - Poptarts, cereal, and OJ - and making hot food that the morning weather calls for - crunchy toast, fried eggs, juicy sausages, and a hot cup of fragrant coffee. In between thoughts of breakfast, Keith curses how cold the house is and tries to remember what time the repairman was supposed to show up. 

 

In the end, hot food wins out. Keith bustles around their kitchen while listening to the classical music channel Shiro’s programmed into the radio. He recognizes one of the tunes enough to hum his way through it while cracking the eggs into the frying pan. 

 

It’s a messy symphony he’s conducting but it speaks of a content home. The sizzle of meat cooking next to the eggs. The coffee pot bubbling away. The announcer telling her listeners they were listening to Rachmaninoff “Lilacs” Op. 21-5. With a sharp ding, two more slices of toast pop up to catch Keith’s attention. Keith tries not to curse at how hot they are when he grabs them by the corners with his fingertips before quickly transferring them onto their plate.

 

He’s not sure how long he takes but the rain gentles in the meanwhile. Keith pauses a second before sticking the coffee pot back into its slot, staring out the french doors. The dark clouds still hang heavy, promising more rain in the future. He glances back at the note stuck to the fridge - “Repairman - around noon - Thursday” and scowls. If the rain keeps up, Keith’s not sure if the guy is going to show up to fix this heating issue.

 

_ I better call him after we’re done eating,  _ Keith makes a mental note as he transfers everything onto a tray. Once he’s arranged everything to his liking, Keith carries their breakfast back to their room.

 

By the time Keith’s carefully pushing the bedroom door open, the rain has petered away to a pace so gentle only every other drop falls against the window. Keith’s barely taken two steps before Shiro is sleepily raising his head, fringe messily tumbling over his eyes. In a sleep-hoarse voice, he asks Keith, “Where’d you go?”

 

Smiling warmly, Keith hurries forward, cutlery clinking in his haste. Shiro rearranges himself into a seated position, blinking in surprise at the food Keith presents to him before turning his awed face up at Keith. 

 

“You made breakfast?” 

 

Keith slips back under the covers. Carefully however, to avoid jostling the tray. Once he’s settled, he kisses the happy smile growing on Shiro’s face and smiles as well. “Happy anniversary.”

 

Murmuring the words back, followed by those special three words they’ve exchanged so many times, Shiro leans in for another kiss. And another. And another before Keith pulls back regretfully. “Food,” he reminds Shiro just as the man’s stomach lets out a low whine.

 

Sighing regretfully, Shiro pulls back. But not before he catches Keith’s chin between his thumb and finger and plants a long, sweet kiss that steals Keith’s breath away. He blinks dazedly at Shiro, heart swelling with love and desire when his husband murmurs, “Thank you for making breakfast.”

 

“Anytime.”


End file.
